


The Rookie & The Old Man pt 2

by inmyfashion



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, collected from tumblr, lots of smooching, written from prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 08:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmyfashion/pseuds/inmyfashion
Summary: A collection of short stories and such written from prompts over at Tumblr.





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

> You can always feel free to leave me a prompt [in my inbox at Tumblr.](https://darling-in-my-fashion.tumblr.com/ask)

Table of Contents:

 

[2. ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550/chapters/28285995)  _ **25\. “I thought we could go back to whatever the hell we were!”**_

[3.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550/chapters/28286013) **_53\. “I’m his/her best friend”_**

[4.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550/chapters/28286028) **_23\. “You have a picture of me? On your fridge?”_**

[5.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550/chapters/28717344) ** _in sickness and in health_** : a repost of a short-story, Ginny takes care of a sick Mike

[6.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550/chapters/28855473)  ** _grocery games_** : a repost-- A tipsy Ginny & Mike go grocery shopping

[7.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550/chapters/31695126) **_clothes doth become_** : Ginny confronts Mike after he decides not to attend events with her anymore

[8.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550/chapters/33588519) **_Ginny Getting Married_** : Ginny's Instagram likes become a major news story

[9.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550/chapters/33923241) _**try, try again**_ : Rumors are swirling about a potential trade for Ginny, but Mike won't let her get away that easily

[10.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550/chapters/34099998) **_no scar for happiness_** : Mike learns that Ginny overheard his comments about calling her a gimmick

[11. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12428550/chapters/38310479)  ** _5 Times Mike Lawson Never Got Used to How Beautiful Ginny Baker Is (And the 1 Time He Did)_**


	2. I thought we could go back to whatever the hell we were!

> _**25\. “I thought we could go back to whatever the hell we were!”** _  
> 

“If you keep avoiding me, I’m going to develop a complex.”

Ginny startles and lets out a squeak, nearly dropping the bag slung over her shoulder.

“You need a bell, Lawson,” she grumbles as she turns to face him. His is expression is solemn even though his words were said lightly. She frowns back at him and shrugs. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“You are absolutely avoiding me and I’d like to know why.”

She fidgets and casts her eyes away from his gaze. “Can’t give you a why for something that’s not actually happening.”

“Ginny,” Mike says firmly, making her stop and lock eyes with him. “Come on. Don’t do this. You know what you’re doing.”

She loops her free arm through the strap of her backpack and lets the weight settle against her. “Now’s not the time.”

“When is the time?” he demands. “Another month from now when you’re still not talking to me?”

“Mike—”

“What do I have to do in order for you to own up to the fact that this has been happening?”

“Mike—”

“Please don’t make another excuse. You’ve been avoiding me ever since we kissed, and—”

“Shh!” she cuts him off with a hiss. “Mike, seriously, not here—”

Mike throws up his hands. “There’s no one else around. I double and triple-checked. And then I waited because I knew you’d try to be the last one out to try and avoid me and this again. We kissed Ginny. It happened and it was fucking perfect…until you started going out of your way to avoid me. Why? You said you were fine…that it was fine and it was a long time coming, so—“

“I thought we could go back to whatever the hell we were!” Ginny exclaims. “But we can’t because every time I take a moment to sit still I remember that kiss. I dream about it. I feel every moment of it Mike, and it’s excruciating being around you when you agreed that it was just fine, what the hell—”

Mike’s lips over hers cut off whatever she plans to say next. His hand lovingly cups her cheek even as his lips are urgent and demanding against hers. The heady smell of sandalwood and citrus surround her when he takes a step closer. 

He eases her backpack from her shoulders and the thud of it hitting the ground barely registers for Ginny, too consumed with the feel of his massive arms pulling her into his chest. 

He breaks the kiss with a huff, takes a breath, and presses his lips against her again—softer this time. He brings both hands to her face and gently cups her cheeks, running his thumbs across her high cheekbones as his mouth plunders hers.

“Not nothing,” he whispers against her mouth when he finally breaks their kiss. He leans away and looks steadily into her eyes. “Everything. I’ve wanted to kiss you every moment of every day since knowing exactly how it feels. So, unless you have any objections, I plan to do just that every day for as long as you let me.”

Ginny’s answering grin is wide and a little manic. “No objections at all.”


	3. I'm her best friend

> 53\. “I’m his/her best friend”

“Mike, I know you don’t like answering questions about Baker—”

“And yet, that hasn’t managed to stop you once, Jimmy,” Mike interrupts.

The rest of the press in the room break out in a round of well-natured chuckles.

Jimmy presses on. “But I can’t help but notice how much closer you and Baker seem this season than the last.”

Mike lifts an eyebrow and waits for a beat before he replies. “I don’t hear a question, Jimmy.”

“Why are you and Baker connecting better this season than the previous one?” Jimmy asks in an exasperated tone.

Mike shrugs a big shoulder before he leans back in his seat. A few cameras flash and he smiles a practiced grin in their direction before he turns back to Jimmy, his smile turning slightly sinister.

“We won the NLCS last year, Jimmy. And the World Series, in case you don’t recall. I think we’ve been connecting just fine. What can I say that you’ll believe? I know all your favorite theories about me and Baker, but would you believe we’re just clicking better this season? Or is that not a juicy enough sound bite?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “Come on Lawson, it’s your final season. You’re coming off a historic win from last year and people are curious about how much closer the two of you are. The first woman in the league is—”

“A damn fine player,” Mike cuts across him. His tone is sharp and sends a ripple of tension through the air. “And doesn’t require any extra scrutiny for being a woman doing this job. Want to know the truth?” Mike kicks up a corner of his mouth, loving the way they all inch forward in their seats. “We work so well together because I’m her best friend. We braid each other’s hair and everything.”

Groans and chuckles pepper the space before they become shouted questions at Mike’s back as he gets up and leaves the room, closing the heavy door with a solid thud.

He walks a few paces down the hall before Ginny’s voice stops him. “We braid each other’s hair, Lawson? Seriously?”

He turns and shrugs, the smirk on his lips becoming a true smile as she draws closer. “Jimmy is an asshole and a misogynist.”

“And you gave him one hell of a quote,” she replies stopping a foot in front of him. She crosses her arms and smiles. “So I’m your best friend, huh?”

“I said I was _your_ best friend, Baker, not the other day around.”

“That’s too bad,” she says with a sigh. She takes a step closer to him and tilts her head back, looking up at him through the fringe of her thick eyelashes.

“Why’s that?” he whispers.

She lifts and lowers a shoulder. “Because if I were your best friend, I’d tell you all about my plans for the guy who is my best friend that I happen to be absolutely crazy about.”

Mike’s fingers tease a loose curl, pulling gently on the coily spring before pushing it behind her ear. “Whoever he is, he’s a really lucky guy. I hope he knows that.”

“Mhmm, the luckiest.”

Mike drops his hand and takes a step back. “So what are your plans for this very lucky man?”

“I could tell you, or–” she pauses and lets her eyes sweep across his face before she turns and walks back down the empty hallway. “You’re welcome to find out on your own.”  



	4. You have a picture of me? On your fridge?

> 23\. “You have a picture of me? On your fridge?”

Unless under duress, Mike would never admit that he much preferred evenings at home to evenings out at a bar—he has a reputation to maintain. But sitting with Ginny on his couch, listening to her mutter obscenities under her breath at the ref calling the Rams vs Cardinals game, easily beats a night out trolling bars and buying rounds of shots. 

A commercial break gets Ginny to ease off the edge of the couch and recline nearer to him. He doesn’t know if it’s her shampoo, her lotion, or a combination of the two, but the sweet, heady scent of vanilla and honeysuckle invade his senses as she struggles to get comfortable beside him. 

“What’s wrong, rook?” 

She frowns and turns towards him. “I hate this stupid wrap. Is this really necessary?”

Mike nods. “PT says you’ve got to start doing it and I’d listen if I were you so you don’t end up with chronic pain like me.”

Her frown grows deeper. “I hate it.”

“I know.”

“And I hate that you only invite me over so you can make sure I’m doing it.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t invite you over at all.”

Ginny nudges him with her unwrapped arm and he playfully winces away from her bony elbow. 

“Can I ask you a question?” she says after a few minutes of easy silence. Mike inclines his head and brings his bottle of beer to his lips. “Why do you have a picture of me…on your fridge?”

He takes a long drag from his beer before he looks at her and shrugs. “I have a picture of me on my fridge, you just happen to be in it, rookie.”

Ginny pinches her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger, a line forming between her brows as she looks at him. “I know you’re a narcissist,” she says releasing her lip. “But you’re mostly turned away from the camera and I don’t even remember that being taken. When was that? Who gave it to you?”

“I don’t know,” he lies. “I don’t remember. It’s not a big deal, Baker.”

“You have a picture of me. On your fridge.”

He mutters something as he leans forward to set his empty bottle on the coffee table. “Do you want me to take it down?”

Ginny shakes her head. “No, I only want to know why it’s there.”

“It’s a good picture,” he replies gruffly. 

“You don’t even have another magnet on your fridge. Or one of those sticky pads for lists. It seems so…I don’t know. Out of the ordinary.”

Mike rests his arms on his knees and focuses on the commercial still running on TV. He starts when Ginny’s hand comes up to his bicep, curling around the inside with a strong grip before she rests her head against his back. He vaguely wonders if she can hear how fast his heart is beating. 

She doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t move when the game comes back on. Mike’s sure she can’t possibly see anything, but he doesn’t think of mentioning it—she feels too good resting against him. 

When the commercial break comes again, Mike moves a big, warm hand to her knee and squeezes gently. “Any picture you’re in is my favorite, but that one tops them all because you were so damn happy that day at Petco. I don’t even remember why, but you wouldn’t stop smiling. The team photographer had a dozen or so of you from that day and I snagged that one because it was my favorite.”

Her breath tickles over his thin cotton shirt as she nuzzles into his shoulder. “You’re a sentimental sap,” she murmurs against him with so much reverence in her tone he almost kisses her then and there. 

“Yeah, rook. When it comes to you, I guess I am.”


	5. in sickness and in health

**  
**“Mike.” **  
**

He groans as a cool, dry hand touches the side of his fevered face. He presses his cheek further into the surprisingly rough palm and sighs.

“Ginny.”

“Yeah, it’s me, old man,” the voice chuckles. “Wake up. It’s time for your next dose.”

Mike cracks an eye open and stares into Ginny’s smirking face. He frowns and brings his finger up to the dimple in her cheek. When she laughs, his mouth drops open and he shakes his head.

“You’re real.”

Ginny laughs harder and pushes at the middle of his chest to maneuver him off of her shoulder. “Of course I’m real. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re never really here after I wake up,” he mutters. “You always disappear just as things start to get good.”

Ginny smirks and leans toward the coffee table, plucking the small, pink bottle from the center. She takes the tiny plastic cup off the top, along with the lid, and measures out Mike’s next dose of high-quality cough syrup.

“What am I usually doing in these dreams of yours?” Ginny asks, and she knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help but wonder after Mike’s earlier confession what else he’s pictured between the two of them.

“All sorts of things,” he replies with a sigh before he takes the tiny cup from her. He knocks the cherry flavored liquid back in one chug. He winces and shakes his head, making Ginny laugh more.

She takes the cup from him and sets it back on the table. She presses the back of her hand to his forehead, happy to find it's cooler than it has been.

“You're always so nice to me in my dreams,” he continues on. He leans back against the arm of the couch and shuts his eyes. “That's how I know it's a dream. You're not nice to me in real life.”

“I'm always nice to you, Mike.”

“You're a terrible liar, babe.”

“Babe?” Ginny scrunches her nose. “Yeah, I don't think I like that.”

“Babe Ruth was a great baseball player. Not as good as Jackie. Nowhere as good as Hank Aaron, but decent. But that's not why I called you babe. You're babe because I like you a lot. I actually love you, but I don't know that you're ready to hear that just yet.”

Ginny swallows hard and shakes her head. It's the second time Mike’s told her that in the eight hours she's been sitting with him on his couch. “What did I say about that before, Mike?”

He tucks into the pillow that's wedged between his back and the couch, scooting down until it's under his head. “You said to say it when I'm not hopped up on cold medicine. But I know what I'm about. Just because there's two of you and my head's a little fuzzy and I really need a shower doesn't mean that I don't know what I'm saying. Also, remind me to kiss you when I'm not sick. I think I’ll really enjoy that. And I'll make sure you do, too, rook.”

“Would you be more comfortable in bed?” Ginny asks with a need to change the subject.

He shrugs one big shoulder then shakes his head. “No, it's comfortable here. And you're here. If I go upstairs, I'll fall asleep and then all of this will go away. You'll go away.”

“You're not dreaming, Mike.”

“I've got to be,” he insists. “You're being nice. And you're still here and you won't say you love me back. You always do those things in my dreams.”

Ginny holds her hand against his cheek and her heart squeezes in her chest when he runs his lips across her palm.

“I promise I'll be here in the morning if you go up to bed. It's better for your back, old man.”

“I love it when you call me that. I don't know why.” He winces as he stands. He leans back and stretches and a sliver of his belly peeks out between the hem of his shirt and top of his sweats. “I do know why,” he continues, oblivious to Ginny’s gaze. “But I don't think you'd like my reason for it. Not yet anyway. Are you coming to bed?”

Ginny’s mouth falls open and she takes the hand he's got stretched out. He pulls her off the couch and grabs his blanket, shuffling off towards the stairs as he does his best impression of Linus.

“Promise you'll really be here in the morning?” he asks her again as he falls into his bed.

She pulls the comforter up to his chin and smooths down his hair. “Yes, I promise.”

\--

Sunlight streams into Mike's room as he kicks away the covers. He's over warm and sweat pools at the collar of his thin t-shirt. He aches, and his head throbs, but his chest is clear and he doesn't completely feel like death warmed over.

He takes a deep breath and settles for a moment before his eyes pop open and he sits up with a shot.

He reaches a hand out to feel the sheets beside him, but they're cold. He falls back against the bed with a groan and throws an arm across his face.

“Just a dream,” he murmurs. “Always just a dream.”

“Talking to yourself, old man?”

Miks lifts his head and sees Ginny at the foot of his bed, two steaming mugs in her hand. She moves to the nightstand and sets both cups down before she perches at the edge of Mike's bed.

“How are you feeling?” she asks and presses her hand to his forehead. “It seems like your fever is broken. How's your chest feel? Need any more cold medicine?”

Mike's eyes go wide and he shakes his head. “No.”

“You look surprised,” she laughs.

“I am a little.” He clears his throat and shifts up the bed. “You're here. You're actually here.”

“Yes,” she smiles. “I've been here since yesterday. You answered the door shrouded in a blanket. Somehow you're both incredibly cute and incredibly pathetic.”

Her teasing warms him, but he can't quite give it back to her. “But, you're still here.”

She nods. “I am.”

“Why?”

“Because you asked me to stay.”

Mike's heart knocks against his ribs and the tickle of a memory, of words he spoke and meant fill his head. “I...Ginny, I think I might have—”

“Before you continue,” she interrupts. “Let me say this: you don't have to mean anything you said last night. You were feverish and probably on too much cold medicine. So, you don't have to say anything, and if you don't remember, or would like to pretend that you don't, that's fine, too. We can forget all about it and we won't bring it up again.”

Mike takes in her face, the heightened color of her cheeks, and the way she worries her hands. He reaches for them and settles his large, warm hand over hers.

“I told you I love you,” he states boldly. “I mean it. We don't have to do anything with it right now, it doesn't have to mean anything more, but I meant it. I mean it. I don't want to forget about that. And I'm not going to pretend, either.”

Her smile is quick and genuine and so bright Mike thinks he might go blind from it. “If only you weren't so disgusting right now, I'd kiss the hell out of you, Mike Lawson.”

“Yeah, I'm definitely awake. You're so mean. I just told you—”

“I love you, too,” she cuts across him. “And I don't know what that means or what could happen, but I do love you, too, Mike. So very much.”

Mike smiles and lets out a rattling laugh. “I'm going to go shower, and when I get back, I fully intend on collecting that kiss.”

“I'll be right here waiting.”

_FIN_


	6. grocery games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A tipsy Ginny & Mike go grocery shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> repost

Ginny’s giggles fill Mike’s ears as she traipses through produce. Her fingers brush over the little signs designating the names of various fruit and vegetables. She looks ridiculously out of place in the short, decadent blue dress, and heels that make her legs look like obscenely long.

“Ugh,” she mutters as she stops in front of the display of cilantro. “So gross,” she says as she flicks at the waning leafy greens before picking a bundle up. “It tastes like soap. We should buy it and get rid of it so no one else has to eat it.”

“We’re not doing that, Gin,” Mike replies, taking the bunch she has in her hand and placing them back amongst the other herbs. “Not everyone hates cilantro as much as you do.”

“Well, they should.” She throws him a glance over her shoulder before stalking off, her hips and ass begging him to follow behind her.

And he does, because how could he not? He’d follow her anywhere as is, but the combination of her slightly off-kilter walk from alcohol and those sky-high heels have him hypnotized.

He feels utterly ridiculous with his bow tie loose around his neck, trailing behind his tipsy, bordering-on-drunk, twenty-five-year-old girlfriend until she looks at him, or smiles at him, or trails her fingers up his tux-clad thigh. Then he feels like a giddy twenty-something idiot who would follow this woman to the ends of the earth, even if that means pushing a grocery buggy behind her.

He loses her for a moment, then laughs out loud when he sees her round the corner carrying three cases of grape soda.

“Gin,” he starts and he can’t keep the mirth out of his voice or stop his lips from curling into a smile. “There’s still grape soda at the house unless you’re planning on taking a bath in it, rookie.”

She frowns and lowers the cases into the cart before she walks to him and presses her body flush against his. She grabs the lapels of his jacket and tips her head up just a little to notch their lips together.

They kiss sloppy and wet; she tastes like sugar and mint and Mike takes her ass in his hands and brings her hips against his.

She breaks the kiss first, grappling to catch her breath as she runs her tongue across her bottom lip. “We need some Captain Crunch, old man,” she says and he shakes his head and gives her ass another squeeze.

“That stuff is gross, Gin.”

“I’m tired of eating your bran flakes old man.”

Mike gasps when Ginny’s hand slides between them to grip his length. He drops his forehead again hers and moans when her hand tightens.

“Though,” she whispers against his mouth as her hand teases him, “those bran flakes seem to do your body good.”

“Fucking hell, Gin,” he bites or before he kisses her again, just as rough and hungry as before. “Get your fucking cereal,” he says when he pulls away. He nips her lip and throws her a grin he knows drives her crazy. “Five minutes left in this store, or I’m fucking you in the middle of the cereal aisle.”

_FIN_


	7. clothes doth become

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short based on the photo below.
> 
> For [lerayon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lerayon/works).

 

“Why'd you ask to stop going to events with me?”

Mike looks up from his iPad, startled to see Ginny in front of him.

He's done an excellent job the past week making sure he's always in clear sight of someone else—usually Blip—when he knows Ginny's going to be around. The fact that she's cornered him in the physio suite just as the training staff has left leads him to believe she's much more observant than he is.

“What's that, Baker?” he asks.

He turns his gaze back to the device in his lap, but not before he's cataloged everything she's wearing.

She's changed out of her uniform, and three seasons into the majors has finally let her lycra-based style develop into something more substantive. She wears the softest looking v-neck sweater in a burgundy that makes her skin glow, and a dark pair of skinny jeans that fit her body to a T.

In other words, everything about her appearance is dangerous for Mike and his rapidly fading resolve to not talk about the thing between them.

“Management said you don't want to do publicity appearances with me anymore.” She takes a step closer to where he's sitting on the bench. He can see her dark brown boots slide into the periphery of his vision.

He grunts and shrugs. “I'm tired and old, Baker. News outlets only want to talk to you anyway.”

“Duh, and I bring you along because you know how much I hate that. I count on you and your narcissism to get me through these events. Why are you bailing on me?”

Mike shifts and holds in a groan when his back seizes. “Sorry Baker, I can't be your shield forever. I'm sure one of the other guys would be more than happy to play your shadow at events.”

“I don't want one of the other guys. I want you.”

Mike grits his teeth at the easy admission because it's not what she means, but damn if those words don't make his heart beat faster.

“Can't always get what you want.”

“Thank you, Glee.”

“What?”

She shrugs. “They sang that song on Glee.”

Mike's mouth drops open. “That song is so much older and better than fucking Glee, Baker. Holy—”

“Calm down,” she says as she waves a hand. She drops her bag and hops up next to him on the bench. “See? Who else could I tease relentlessly about things? No one else fights back. They all just nod and go along with me.”

When she settles beside him, a gentle wave of a subtle, soft scent hits him. It's a fragrance Mike can't identify, but it makes him want to bury his face in her neck and mark her with his teeth.

He shifts slightly away from her, putting space between them. “You'll find some other willing victim, Baker.”

“But I want it to be you.”

Mike's grip on his tablet turns painful. He finally drags his eyes back to her gaze and what he sees makes his heartache. “Why?”

She slowly smiles and tilts her head. “You're my best friend, why wouldn't I want to spend time with you?”

“You're killing me, Baker.”

She laughs, but it quickly turns to a frown as she runs her eyes over his face. “You're not joking.”

“No, I'm fucking not.”

“You really don't want to do events with me anymore?” Her voice is soft and the hurt palpable.

Mike tosses his tablet on the table beside him and turns to look at her. “Going to these events with you tests every ounce of sanity I have because we’re still not talking about this, are we Ginny?”

He watches her squirm on the bench and her shoulders start to creep up near her ears.

“Yeah, I didn't think so. So, until we’re talking about it, I don't think I can handle these events with you where you look fucking gorgeous, and I spend the whole night watching men—and more than a few women—fawn all over you while I just look on and... hope. I can't keep doing it.”

Ginny breaks his gaze and looks down at her hands. “What did it?”

Her question is so soft, Mike almost believes he made it up. “That goddamn white dress you wore to the ESPYs.”

Mike catches a hint of a smirk on her face before she clears her expression. “Oh.”

“You knew!” he exclaims.

Her eyes meet his once more, wide and innocent, but Mike isn't buying it. “What?”

“Don't what me. Your outfits have been increasingly hot with each event.”

“My outfits are just outfits,” she shrugs. “Usually picked out with the help of Ev, and the direction that they should be totally unfussy.”

“You've slowly been driving me crazy and knowing exactly what you're doing.”

She blinks and keeps staring at him like she's just waiting for the final piece of the puzzle to click for him.

“Have you been? Are you actually ready to talk about this, or have I… Gin, tell me something.”

Ginny hops off the bench and moves to stand between Mike's spread thighs. She rests one hand on his bare knee while the other cups his jaw. She runs her thumb across the apple of his cheek, then over his lips where she lets it linger.

“I thought you'd be a little quicker on the uptake. You always read me so well, Mike.”

She leans in and replaces her thumb with her lips, so soft, it's almost a whisper. She pulls back and pushes the hand at his knee slowly up his thigh.

“I'm ready to have that talk, but maybe later?” she asks. “I’m really interested in finding out exactly what you'd do at the end of the evening, after an event... if we didn't have to say goodnight.”

Mike breathes hard and blinks a couple of times to ensure this isn't some elaborate fantasy. “Be sure, Ginny. Be absolutely sure. If we do this, we’re really going to do this, and I won't be able to pretend like I'm not over the moon in love with you, so please—”

“You love me?” she asks and the smile that takes over her face is nearly blinding.

Mike puts his hands on her waist and scoots to the edge of the bench. He pulls her closer to him and nods. “Of course I do. How could I not?”

“I love you, too, old man,” she says before she kisses him quick. “I only wanted to get you to make a move, you know? I didn't actually want to drive you crazy.”

Mike leans back and arches a brow. She laughs and shrugs. “Well, maybe a little crazy.”

“Yeah, you're going to pay for that, Baker.”

“Promise?” she smirks.

Mike growls and stands from the bench, pulling her fully into his body. He drops a kiss that leaves them both dizzy and fuzzy and content.

“Count on it.”


	8. Ginny Getting Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny's Instagram likes are scrutinized by the media.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [So I made this post on Tumblr](https://darling-in-my-fashion.tumblr.com/post/173524479109/darling-in-my-fashion-i-want-someone-to) about KB liking Christian Sirano wedding dresses, and this happened. I apologize if it’s not great or what you wanted, I’m firmly on the struggle bus at the moment with my mental health. x

Eliot is the first one to pick up on what's happening.

“You know your likes are public, right?” he asks her between bursts of the pulse button the VitaMix.

“What?” Ginny lobbies back. Her lips turn down as she reaches across the counter, the gorgeous three-carat diamond sparkling on the short journey, to still Eliot’s hand on the blender.

Eliot nods and wrestles the container off the base of the mixer. “On Instagram. And Twitter. Your likes are public.” He pours the thick chocolate smoothie into a tall glass and slides it across the counter.

“Thanks,” Ginny starts as she sits back. “But what does that mean?”

Eliot smiles and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “It means that all the wedding dresses you've been liking on Instagram is probably going to be the subject of a story on People.com”

Ginny takes a sip of her drink and shrugs. “I don't think people pay that much attention to stuff like that.”

Eliot smiles and shakes his head. “If you say so, Ginny.”

_**7 days later** _

“I can't believe you're not considering Vera Wang,” Evelyn tsks. “A custom Vera Wang gown, G! I'd die.”

Ginny lifts and lowers her head on the kitchen table with a heavy thunk. “I thought Eliot was joking. I can't believe this is an actual story.”

Evelyn rolls her eyes. “Ginny, come on. The fervor around you hasn't stopped. If anything, it's only gotten bigger so you and Mike became official. Oh!” Evelyn pauses and thrusts the magazine she's flipping through towards Ginny. “Look at all the designers who want to dress you, G.”

Ginny picks her head up off the table and stares down at the spread in one of the many wedding magazines Evelyn’s thrown her way in the last few months.

In the middle of the spread is a picture of Ginny and Mike at last year’s Espys. Mike in an incredible grey herringbone suit, and Ginny in a maroon dress she remembers Mike couldn't wait to get her out of.

In three concentric circles around the couple are fifteen different designers with ideas for the perfect gown for Ginny and Mike’s big day.

“Ginny bean, we’re back!” Janet Baker calls out even as the door chime rings out through the room.

Ginny looks away from the magazine spread as her mom, laden down with bags, walks into the room, followed closely by Mike, whose arms similarly weighed down.

She pushes away from the table and greets her mother with a smile and kiss on the cheek as she lightens the load in her arms. Janet gives her a loving pat before she leaves the couple to join Evelyn at the table.

An involuntary grin pulls at the corners of Ginny’s mouth as she tips her head back and waits for Mike to kiss her. She's not there long before his lips descend onto hers, soft and supple, and tasting of spearmint.

“Hi,” he whispers against her lips before he pulls back. “Missed you.”

Ginny’s smile is brighter than the sun. “Missed you, too.”

“Oh my god,” Evelyn groans. “He was gone for an hour.”

“An hour and a half,” Mike returns.

“Please,” Evelyn starts. “Not even Blip and I are this bad.”

“No, you're much worse,” Ginny returns as she heads into the kitchen with the grocery bags, Mike trailing along behind her.

She sets the bags down on the counter before she hops up next to them and peers inside. “What'd you get for dinner?”

“I'm making pasta,” Mike says. He walks over to where she's perched on the counter and steals another kiss before he begins to take items out of the bags. “Your latest favorite one with the ham and asparagus.”

“God, I love you.”

“I know.”

Ginny rolls her eyes but the smile never leaves her face. “We’re featured in a wedding magazine.”

Mike turns from putting away the butter in the fridge. He raises an eyebrow and waits for her to continue.

Ginny shrugs and tips her head back towards Ev. “Apparently, all my Instagram likes are being held up as proof as to who's designing my gown.”

“Did they say anything about my Instagram likes?” Mike asks as he pushes her knees apart to stand between her legs.

Ginny shakes her head. “Not that I can tell.”

“Jerks. I've been liking some really good suits.”

Ginny laughs and sets her forearms on his shoulders. “Sorry to burst your bubble, old man, but nobody really cares what the groom wears, or so I'm told.”

Mike shrugs a big shoulder and leans forward to rub his nose against hers. “Doesn't matter to me what either of us wear, as long as you meet me at the end of that aisle, Gin.”

“Even if I wore my uniform?” she asks with a quirk of her lips.

“I'd love it if you wore your uniform. Bring this thing fill circle.”

“Absolutely not!”  
“Totally out of the question!” Janet and Evelyn interject from across the room.

“No way am I letting my best friend wear her stinky old uniform to marry the man she's been in love with for the better part of her life. Nope. Not on my watch.” Evelyn narrows her eyes and wags a finger at the two of them. “Now stop with the heart-eyes and get your cute butt back here, G. We have plans to make.”

Ginny groans and rests her head against Mike's shoulder for a moment before she pushes away and hops down from the counter.

“I'm expecting a rescue in thirty minutes time, Mike. Be my hero.”

“Sixty.”

Ginny’s mouth drops open.  

“The pasta dough has to rest before I make it, you know that.”

_**Two weeks later** _

“Every media outlet from here to Juneau is having a field day with your likes,” Amelia murmurs as she scrolls through her phone.

Ginny winks at Mike as a shit-eating grin takes over his face. “I don't know why, not like they're that interesting.”

In the weeks between the spread in Bride Magazine and deciding to bite the bullet and head to Kleinfeld’s, Ginny decided it'd be fun to have people speculate about their wedding.

Her likes turned from Carolina Herrera and Elie Saab, to gowns made out of odd materials like balloons and body paint, and odd decorative pieces like an enormous winged bird as a train.

Mike took a similar course, liking outrageous designs, odd fabrics and colors, and different cuts of suits.

He’s incredibly pleased when EW puts his own likes in the lower third corner of the spread about Ginny. 

- _FIN_ -


	9. try, try again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginny x Mike prompt: Tons of trade rumors swirling around Ginny and Mike trying to remain calm (and failing miserably)

There was a distinct lack of noise and commotion in the Padres clubhouse as Mike walked through the door.

He hitched his bag higher on his shoulder and made his way through the room to his cubby in almost total silence. Blip looked up from his phone, his lips turned down, and gave Mike a brief nod before turning his attention back to his screen.

Mike sighed and dropped his bag. He rolled his shoulders in an attempt to release the tension from them, but it didn’t work.

He sat down heavily in the leather padded chair and unlaced his shoes before tossing them aside.

From the couch in the middle of the room, Mike picked up snatches of a whispered conversation between two rookie recruits who tussled over control of the TV remote.

“…Doesn’t want it..”

“Well, I want to hear…”

“…Deal’s supposed to be huge. Said she’s going to Atlanta.”

“No, she’s going to Washington, idiot.”

“Hey,” Mike spoke and the sound ripped through the air like a crack of thunder. He stared down the two men until they let the remote hit the seat between them. He moved his gaze to the TVs above their heads to see a video of Ginny, walking down the red carpet of last year’s Sports Illustrated Media Awards. Her hair was loose and curly, and her multi-colored dress fit her like a glove.

She stood beside some guy she’d been crazy about for months. Mike couldn’t remember his name.

“Don’t you two have something you should be doing?” Mike asked his attention back to the two rookies who went still under their captain’s gaze.

The two outfielders shuffled off the couch in a hurry, making their way down the long hallway and out of their captain’s sight.

“You don’t know if—” Blip began, but Mike cut him off.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ginny’s at home here, and it’s not like—”

“I said,” Mike interrupted once more. “I don’t want to talk about it. Shit happens. That’s baseball. No reason to tie ourselves into knots because a player might leave. People leave all the time.”

Mike’s mouth snapped shut and he stood in a hurry, unbuttoning his lavender shirt, and hoping against hope that Blip wouldn’t comment on his last statement.

“If anyone can decide to stay, it’d be Ginny,” Blip spoke lowly. “The front office will pay whatever to keep her if she wants to stay.”

Mike ignored the pang in the middle of his chest. There was no way he could tell Blip that he might’ve given Ginny everything she needed to leave. That he was the catalyst behind her even considering…

He pulled on his old hoodie and shook off his jeans before sliding into an even older pair of soft athletic shorts.

Mike shrugged. “She’s a ballplayer. She should do whatever she can to keep doing that.”

Mike shoved his bag into his cubby and walked away before Blip could counter with something that made more sense than he was willing to admit.

He walked down the deserted hallway to the therapy suite, hoping to get Kiki to work on his back even though he wasn’t starting that night.

When he opened the door, he drew the attention of the two people in the room and immediately wished he’d just stayed put and listen to Blip ignore his wishes to talk about Ginny.

The woman herself looked over her left shoulder and straight into his eyes.

His gut clenched and his hands curled into fists when she turned back towards Kiki without so much as a nod in acknowledgment.

“Mike,” Kiki said with a wide grin on his stupid face, blue eyes twinkling with the same relentless mirth they always held. “If you hang out for a few minutes, I’ll get to you next.”

“I can come back.”

“Or you can wait. Two minutes.”

Mike nodded and hopped onto the table directly behind where Ginny sat. His eyes trailed down the slope of her neck, her head tilted to the side as Kiki stretch her right rotator cuff.

“Sit tight, Baker. I’m going to get some ice and a wrap.” Kiki smiled and tucked her arm securely against her body before and telling her to leave it there until he got back.

Mike stayed in his spot behind her, following the gentle cadence of her breath and motion of her back with his eyes.

Ginny shifted on the table. Her shoulders are taut and climbed towards her ears as the seconds ticked by.

Mike cleared his throat and frowned when Ginny jumped a little at the sound.

“Are you just going to ignore me?” he heard himself ask before he could even process he spoke.

Ginny shrugged her left shoulder and kept her eyes forward. “I think everything you had to say you said last night, don’t you?”

Mike sighed and hung his head for a moment before he got up and walked around the table to stand in front of her. He crossed his arms and widened his stance, doing his utmost to look imposing, but failing if Ginny rolling her eyes was any indication.

“What are you doing?” Mike asked.

Ginny motioned around the empty room with her left arm. “Not much captain, but I have a feeling I’m about to be scolded for something.”

“Imagine my amazement and annoyance,” Mike began ignoring her sarcasm. “When I get up this morning to texts and ESPN alerts about Ginny Baker, starting pitcher for the Padres, World Series champ, considers a trade to an East Coast team.”

Ginny moved her gaze away from his. “They’re just rumors.”

“Bullshit. And we both know it. So why, Gin?”

“Maybe it’s time to be on my way. Three years with a team is a lot. We’re not all lucky enough to play for one team for our entire careers, Mike, and you—”

“For fuck’s sake,” he said angrily. “Don’t do this. If you’re going to leave, at least be honest about the fact that you’re running away from this.” He finished as he motioned between the two of them

Ginny laughed spitefully. “Who do you want to be, the pot or the kettle?”

“Let’s recap,” Mike started. “Last night I kissed you. This morning, there are trade rumors. If you asked to be moved because of me, the least you could’ve done is told me instead of having me find out on FS1.”

“Not everything revolves around you, Mike.”

Mike scoffed. “Maybe not, but this? I think so. I’m sort of the expert on running away when shit gets difficult.”

“I’m shocked you’re acknowledging that.”

“And I’m also the expert on knowing it won’t fix anything. If you really want to leave because you think it’s best, then go. Don’t just run away because this got complicated.”

“You said you shouldn’t have kissed me!” Ginny exclaimed much louder than she intended. “You said it was a mistake.”

Mike shook his head. He took a step closer to the table and leaned down. “I never said it was a mistake.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I didn’t.”

“Mike, I remember every word—”

“Then tell me what I said.”

Ginny swallowed hard and locked eyes with him. Her lip trembled, but she rolled her shoulders back so she sat up straighter. “You said you shouldn’t have kissed me.”

“Yeah. Did I say it was a mistake? Did I say I regretted it?” Mike prodded.

Ginny blinked and shook her head. “Saying you shouldn’t have done something is a statement of regret, Mike. I can read between the lines.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you because I should’ve waited until I wasn’t your captain and teammate. Because you have a code and I respect you for it. Because I know what it’s like to kiss you and now I can’t because we still play on the same team. I shouldn’t have kissed you because I shouldn’t have put you in this position before there was anything we could do about it. Not because I regret it. How you could come to that conclusion out of everything else that was possible, I’ll never know.”

Ginny sat on the table, mouth agape as she stared at Mike. “I’m sorry, what—”

“I’m tired, Ginny. We are at the tail end of my final season. I almost left once before because I couldn’t face up to this. You were brand new to this game and I was… in love but also more than a little lonely. I understand that now.

“But Ginny, almost running didn’t fix anything. It only made things worse and if you leave because of this or me, then we’ll just be stuck where we have been for three years. If you don’t want this, or me, that’s fine. I’ll deal with that. But there’s a whole room of guys out there that’ll be really hurt. And I’ll be devastated, too.

“I swear I’m not trying to pressure you for more. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I should’ve waited until I was free from this game and told you that I want to spend the rest of my life with you because I love you. But I didn’t. And now we’re here. So don’t leave because I fucked up. Please. Even if you don’t want me. Just, stay. Stay here.”

Mike sighed and took a step back. Ginny’s eyes were wet, but no tears slid down her cheeks.

“You’re so stupid,” Ginny whispered and Mike couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I know.”

Ginny hopped off the table and strolled up to him, stopping a hair’s breadth away. She tilted her head back and let a slow smile break across her lips. “You should’ve said this last night,” she whispered.

“I panicked and then you left so quickly I almost thought you disappeared.”

Ginny’s breath tickled across his bottom lip as she laughed. “If I ask you to kiss me now, are you going to say something dumb again, or will you just keep kissing me until I ask you to stop?”

Mike moved his head until his lips were perfectly in line with hers. “I don’t know. Let’s try it and see.”

_FIN_


	10. no scar for happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everylastline: I love love LOVE your bawson stuff. I just rewatched the show on Hulu and it aches knowing well never see them again :( thank goodness for amazing writers like you! Don’t know if still taking prompts but I’d love an established relationship bawson one where the topic comes up and she admits she heard him call her a gimmick in the Pilot. Would love to see how that convo would play out :) and established relationship bc duh I just want them together foreverrrr :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title comes from a Chuck Palahniuk quote: “It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have **no scar** to show **for happiness.** We learn so little from peace.”

Mike yanked angrily at his tie, once again pulling the length of fabric from around his neck, and tossing it aside. 

“Do I have to wear a tie?” he asked as he fixed the collar on his shirt. 

“For your goddaughter’s christening? Yes, Mike, you do, or Evelyn will kill you.” Ginny responded. She walked up behind him and smoothed her hand down the back of his crisp blue buttoned-down shirt before she moved around to stand in front of him. She picked up the discarded tie and looped it around his neck. With dexterous fingers she worked to get the loops of his tie just right, smoothing her hand down the length once she finished. 

She took a step back and smiled. “I guess you'll do.”

Mike chuckled and pulled her into his chest. He tipped her chin back and kissed her slowly, happy to get lost in the feel of her lush lips, and the hint of spearmint from the gum she regularly stole from him. 

He dragged his thumb down the slope of her neck until it rested in the divot of her decolletage. It teased there while they drank from one another—content and unhurried. 

He drew back with a smile on his face. “I'm glad you approve. I dress for you, you know.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, but smirked anyway. “I approve of you, old man. Now, we have to go before we’re late and lectured by Evie, who has no problem using her child to guilt you.”

“Guilt me?”

“Mhmm,” she began. She turned to the full-length mirror and checked her reflection one final time. “Ellie already has you wrapped around her little finger. I'm immune.”

“Liar!” Mike spit out with a chuckle. “Do you think I missed the five pair of baby Nikes you sent to her?”

Ginny shrugged and threw a wink at him over her shoulder. “Well, she's my goddaughter, too, even though I'm not in the running for her favorite.”

Mike reached for her, but she sidestepped his grasp. She laughed and grabbed his jacket to pull him towards her. 

He went willingly.

“Just think, you don't have to wait for grandkids for the shot to tell the story about the girl baseball player. She's already a captive audience for you.” Ginny ran a hand over the lapel of his jacket one last time before she turned and left their bedroom. 

Mike frowned and moved to catch up with her. He touched her wrist and halted her movement down the stairs. “Why would you say that?” 

Ginny tilted her head. “What? You love telling Ellie stories.”

He nodded and followed behind her, as ever, but something niggled at the back of his mind. Something he couldn't shake. Like he'd heard those words before…

He pushed those thoughts to one side as he got into the car and headed towards the church. He reached across the console and laced their fingers together. He kissed the back of her hand and let their linked fingers fall back on the center console. 

“You're frowning,” she said as Mike parked the car outside of the church. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied and squeezed her hand. “Just thinking.”

Ginny lifted a perfect eyebrow and waited for him to continue. When he didn't, she tugged at his beard and opened the car door. “Cheer up. Ellie's going to be thrilled to see you.” 

Ginny stepped out of the car and closed the door gently. Mike sat for a moment as some distant memory tugged at his brain. He’d heard those words before, but couldn't quite place them. 

He shook his head and got out of the truck, rounding the front to catch up with Ginny. He took her hand in his and ascended the steps of the church. 

Evelyn stood at the top, impeccably dressed, one perfect brow arched. “You're almost late,” she said her arms outstretched for a hug. 

Ginny laughed and happily walked into the circle of her arms. “Blame it on Mike's tie.”

Evelyn released Ginny and presented her cheek for a kiss from Mike, which he happily obliged. 

“Yeah, yeah. I'm easy to blame,” he said with no heat in his voice. “We're here now, so just point me in the direction of my goddaughter. I'm in need of total adoration.”

Evelyn motioned behind her to where Blip stood with a dozing Ellie in his arms. 

As Mike walked towards them, he heard Ginny sigh and Evelyn declare, “yeah girl, I get it.”

He chuckled even as he nodded to Blip. Mike didn't even ask before Blip carefully placed his daughter in his former captain's arms. 

Mike took in Ellie’s gentle pout and fluttering eyelashes and tried to ignore the bone-deep desire that this was he and Ginny’s daughter's christening. Ginny was still young and carving out her path in the MLB, he wouldn't rush her. Especially after she promised in front of all their friends and family to love and cherish him as long as they both lived. 

He genuinely wasn't in a hurry, but holding Ellie made him want so much. 

He looked up at Blip who smirked back at him. “Yeah, I know. Can't explain it either, man. Don't worry, it'll be you and Ginny soon enough.”

“Not too soon,” Mike replied. He smoothed a thumb across Ellie’s cheek as she sighed in his arms. “But yeah, I can't wait.”

“Uh huh,” Blip crooned. “I just want to take this opportunity to remind you, yet again, that you weren't even completely sold on Ginny being on the team until I made you be.”

“Not exactly how I remember it, but—”

“You even said all that stupid stuff to the team before her first start. About her being like the dwarf who played baseball and just being a story to tell your grandkids.”

Mike drew in a sharp breath as the memory finally coalesced into something his mind could grasp. The day of her first start, the words he'd said that Ginny parroted back to him so easily. But how could she…

“Did you tell her that?” Mike asked sharply. Ellie whimpered in his arms so Mike shifted from side to side to quiet her. 

Blip shook his head. “No, I'm not crazy.”

Mike started to ask more, but stopped as Ginny and Evelyn drew closer to him. He racked his brain for how Ginny could've said those exact words to him and how, how he could make it up to her. 

He couldn't continue that train of thought when Ginny wrapped an arm around his waist and tucked her head against his shoulder. She stared down at their goddaughter and picked up one of her little hands and wrapped Ellie’s tiny fingers around hers. 

Mike swallowed hard at the sight that so perfectly matched what lived in his mind.

“You two ready?” Evelyn asked with a knowing smile. 

Mike nodded and leaned down to brush a kiss across Ginny's temple. 

“Ready.”

——-

Mike sat in the corner near Ellie's bassinet as friends and family gathered at the Sanders’ home. He shook his head as he watched Ginny run around the yard with the twins, heedless of her dress or the mild heat of the day. 

He needed to find a way to apologize for what he'd said about her then. To find out how he could make amends. He was so much in his head that he almost missed Evelyn coming to sit beside him. 

“You know you don't have to keep watch over her,” she said as she handed him a tall glass of sparkling water. “My mom’s feeling a little shorted on time with her only granddaughter.”

“I don't mind,” he shrugged. “Besides. It's this, or try and keep up with the twins, which we both know Ginny is way better at. Or worse, talk to the most adults.”

“Hmm,” Evelyn hummed. “What's the real reason you're over here?”

Mike looked down into Ellie's bassinet and rearranged the blanket around her. 

“I'm just thinking about something Ginny said earlier and something Blip reminded me of. I think...You know how sometimes the things people say linger with you for a long time? Even if they've proven they don't mean it?”

“Of course,” Evelyn replied. “That's life. It's unfortunate that there aren't scars for the happiness the way there are for pain.

“Instead of beating yourself up about it, you should talk to Ginny. Clear the air. And stop using my daughter as a way to avoid it.”

Mike leaned over and pressed a quick kiss against Evelyn’s cheek before he handed her his glass and made his way across the backyard. 

He smiled as Ginny caught his eye and the twins ran past him. Her hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun, sweat above her brow, and her dress was a little wrinkled. 

Mike thought she'd never looked prettier. 

“I'm surprised you're off baby-guarding duty.” She smiled up at him and popped on her toes to give him a quick kiss. “You having a good time?”

Mike nodded and took her hand. He pushed a curl behind her ear and brushed his lips across her cheek. “I am having a good time, but something’s been bothering me all day.”

“What's that?”

“You said something earlier about being a story to tell my grandkids, and I couldn't place it until Blip reminded me of it. Gin, I'm so sorry.”

“Mike—”

“No, please,” he interrupted. “I don't know who told you, or how you found our, or why you never said anything about it before, but obviously it made an impression. A bad one. And I'm sorry. I don't think that about you. I haven't thought that about you in a very long time. You work so hard, and the thought that—”

“Please stop,” Ginny said and placed her fingers on his lips. “I know you don't still think those things. And yes, they hurt a lot when you said them to me then. My childhood hero and the reason I wanted to be a pitcher thought I was a fraud. But it did something really important, too, it made you human.

“Not just some distant figure I loved whose poster lived over my bed. You became Mike Lawson, a total mess. Who then became my friend. And later turned into the man I loved. I didn't get lost in the hero worship.

“So yeah, I would've loved to not have you say those things about me. I don't still think about it, or at least I didn't think so. It truly doesn't hurt the way it did then. Especially because I know you, but I appreciate the apology anyway.”

She smiled and laid her free hand over his cheek. “Is that what you've been grumpy about all day?”

“I haven't been grumpy,” he refuted. “Just anxious to make sure you know how much I adore you.”

Ginny laughed. “Whatever you say, old man. Are we good?”

Mike leaned down and kissed her soundly, breathing in every bit of her light and warmth that radiated from her being until he had to pull away to breathe. “I love you, Gin. More than anything in the world.”

“Oh yeah?” Ginny asked with slightly dazed eyes. 

“Yeah.”

“Good, you can prove it to me later when we get home. Put that mouth to an even better use by way of apology.”

She smirked and walked back towards the house. She threw a quick wink over her shoulder and found the twins once more to resume their game. 

Mike laughed and followed her lead. 

_ FIN _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my apologies for any errors, I couldn't bring myself to re-read it. x


	11. 5 Times Mike Lawson Never Got Used to How Beautiful Ginny Baker Is (And the 1 Time He Did)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A 5+1 mini fic

** 1. **

_“You think she dates players?”_ a low voice asked. Mike suspected it was Hinkley since Stubbs responded next.

“Who knows, but you're insane if you think she'd ever get with you. Look at her, man! She's hot, and you're…”

Their voices trailed off giving Mike a much-needed reprieve. For the past week, all he'd heard about was Ginny Baker, and then all he'd seen in every ESPN roundup was a photo of her, baseball cap on, steely gaze focused on the camera, and undeniably gorgeous.

When she stepped out onto his pitch, however, nothing could've prepared him for how beautiful she actually was. No photograph could ever capture how truly remarkable and stunning Ginny Baker was.

His heart galloped in his chest in a way it hadn't for a very long time as he walked across the verdant grass to meet her.

She was, without hesitation, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen—in our out of a Padres uniform. Add that to the fact that he felt every moment of his 16 years with the Padres, as well as her quip about his rookie card, and Mike was on the defensive.

He behaved like an ass because it was an easy default, but he never expected the defiance, the heat that entered her eyes, or the slap on the ass in return.

And damn it if that didn't make her even hotter.

**2.**

_“I know the code.”_

Mike would never admit, but Ginny's driving need to be “one of the guys” consistently made her stand out from the rest of her teammates.

( He’d had those discussions with her before, and they always ended poorly, with Ginny hurt and Mike scrambling to apologize.)

Not that Mike required the extra reminders, but days like these—where the Cardinals had a vendetta—really illuminate how much of a guy Ginny Baker is not.

He's annoyed by her annoyance with him. Yes, he'd probably tell any other guy on the team to return the hit knowing they'd be up for having it returned at bat. Mike knew it shouldn't have made a difference that it was Ginny who hit Theo Falcone, but when she did his heart dropped.

Rushing out to the mound, his gut was a mix of complicated emotions. Mike did his best to quell the feeling that settled in his stomach when her eyes locked onto his and her tongue glided across her bottom lip. Sweaty, self-righteous, and annoyed as she was, she'd still never been prettier...or more reckless.

  
** 3. **

_“A date, huh?”_

She sat beside him at the bar, swinging her heeled legs around to tuck beneath the battered and nicked surface.

When she'd paused in the doorway, smirk firmly planted on her face as she said his name, Mike had to remember that she had rules. That he was far too old for her. That she deserved so much more.

But damn it, she was gorgeous.

Ginny in a dress was a rare occasion—even rarer? Her looking natural and relaxed. Whenever Mike thought or dreamed about Ginny (which was more than he cared to admit) it was always in her uniform or in one of her many casual outfits. Even though he'd seen her dressed to the nines at that disastrous Nike party, it didn't feel like her. She looked nice then.

Now, in that soft, deep blue dress with her hair in soft waves and her face more natural that “done,” her beauty all but knocked the wind out of him.

Add to that the knowledge that she left a date—to meet him?

Yeah, he was a fucking goner.

** 4. **

_“Stop talking.”_

There was sweat over her brow and collected over her lip. The sun made her skin glow even warmer than usual.

And she was about to pitch the Padres' first-ever no-hitter.

He'd gone out to distract her after she threw two balls and was close to walking her first hitter. This shouldn't be a moment he clings to that stands out from all the rest, and yet there's no way Ginny telling him that she calls the shots and gives the speeches is going to do anything but leave him totally rattled and utterly smitten.

Every time the ball sailed smoothly into his mitt, every time batter after batter gets struck out, the weight of everything unspoken between them gets heavier.

Regardless of when the truth of what they feel can finally come out, it was there––unavoidable as knowing that Ginny Baker would forever change baseball and his life.

  
**5.**

_“I don't know that I can do this.”_

Mike sat beside her on the hard ground in the physio suite. Her head rested on his shoulder as she cradled her right elbow against her body.

Mike watched Ginny’s slow and painful journey back from surgery, had been with her through most of it to the detriment of his relationship with Rachel.

He watched her battle through the criticism of the talking heads, her mother's insistence to quit, the doubts from the front office and pitching staff, and come through it stronger on the other side.

But after a debilitating workout during her first spring training in the majors, Mike found her alone in her tiny cubby at the Peoria complex, tucked into a corner breathing erratically.

He sat down beside her and helped her through her panic attack, counting out breaths and keeping a hand on her back to ground her.

“Today was tough, rookie,” Mike whispered as he pressed his big, bracing hand in the middle of her back. “But that doesn't mean you can't do this, but it's okay to feel like it's hard. It is hard. You're not superwoman, Baker, even if you are incredible.”

Ginny laughed and pushed lightly at his chest before she turned her face up to his and gives him a small, watery smile that hurt his heart and made it race in equal measure.

“I've got you, Baker. And I know you can do this, but you need to stop thinking you've got to do this alone.”

Her head fell back to his shoulder and she wrapped her free arm around his waist, nuzzling her cheek against his chest.

“Thank you, Mike.”

“Any time, Gin.”

 

** +1 **

_“I do.”_

Ginny beamed at him as he spoke the words.

Distantly, Mike could hear the officiant asking Ginny if she'd take him to be her lawfully wedded husband, but between her smile, her hands in his, and her perfect dress, Mike only had eyes for her.

As soon as the words ‘I do’ passed Ginny’s lips, Mike’s mouth descended on hers. Laughter rose up around them, but Mike didn't care, didn't stop kissing Ginny until they were both breathless.

They managed to let the officiant end the service, but just barely. They walked out of the hall hand-in-hand to raucous applause.

When they reached the waiting car outside, Mike dipped his head and kissed her soundly. “Hello, Mrs. Baker-Lawson,” he whispered against her lips before kissing her once again. He pulled back and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “You look so beautiful today.”

“Just today?” she asked before dragging her lips across the apple of his cheek.

“Every day you're more beautiful than the last, but today I'm going to let it overwhelm me.”


End file.
